


Destiny

by D_Prime



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-10
Updated: 2011-02-10
Packaged: 2017-10-15 13:36:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_Prime/pseuds/D_Prime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The universe seems to have taken a <i>very</i> active interest in Kurt Hummel’s love life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Destiny

The first time it happens, Kurt writes it off as a poor joke on David's part.

As it turns out, Wes is superstitious to a fault, which is how he, David, Kurt and Blaine end up in the common room at midnight on Friday the 13th, sitting around a Ouija board Wes swears has been in his family for generations.

"There’s only one rule," Wes announces, with all the gravity of a Chuck Palahniuk character. "No questions about competitions. That includes Regionals."

Kurt rolls his eyes, but he likes to think of Wes and David as his friends, and he's sort of flattered that they invited him. So he dutifully presses his right index finger to the edge of the pointer and thinks: _At least this makes more sense than praying to a cheese sandwich._

"I’ll go first." Blaine says, leaning forward. "Uh... Great Ouija Board, what should I get my mom for her birthday?"

The pointer starts gliding across the board. Blaine blinks, a surprised look on his face as he follows the message being spelled out.

 _4._

 _U._

 _2._

 _NO._

"'For you to know?'” Blaine repeats, incredulous. Kurt notes David's smirk and can't help smiling too. "What kind of advice is that?"

"Honest?" Wes supplies helpfully. "Okay, my turn. Great Ouija Board, how do I pass Biology this semester?"

 _S._

 _T._

 _U._

 _D._

 _Y._

And now David's cackling outright. "That's honest all right!" he crows.

Wes just scowls and mutters something about his great-grandmother's curse.

"I’ll go next." Kurt volunteers. And, caught up in the utter lack of sincerity, he asks the dumbest question he can think of.

"Oh Great Ouija Board," he intones with as deep a voice as he can manage. "Tell me the name of my true love!"

The pointer moves.

 _B._

 _L._

Kurt isn’t smiling anymore.

 _A._

And he can't help the anger that surges through him. " _Not_ funny." he growls, pulling away. The pointer stops cold.

Wes looks to David with a disapproving glare. "That was uncalled for, David."

"What?"

"You pushed the pointer!"

David looks outraged. "I did _not_!"

Kurt makes a point of not looking at Blaine – because it's too soon, and for all they know it's _Kurt_ pushing the pointer, trying to force something that's just not...

He gets up and heads back to his room. David and Wes are still arguing as he leaves.

\---

The second time it happens, it's vague enough that Kurt's able to dismiss it. But for a moment, he _does_ wonder.

He's at the mall with Mercedes when a woman bumps into him, scattering cards all over the floor. Kurt is momentarily blinded, because this woman is wearing more fake bling and garish scarves than he's ever seen in his life, and that includes the time he'd put on a completely literal rendition of _Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves_ for New Directions.

He apologizes to the woman (even though he's almost certain _she_ ran into _him_ ), and kneels to pick up the cards.

"Hold up!" she yells in a thick New Jersey accent. "Don't move, kid. The _cards_."

Kurt looks down at his feet and finds tarot cards scattered all around him.

"Oh, come _on_." he pleads, but Mercedes shushes him with an amused grin.

The "gypsy" – Madame Gigi, according to the logo sewn into the back of her dress (and _really_ , if that look were any tackier it would pop tires on the freeway) – grabs his wrist. "Hey, kid, I been doin' this for twenty years. Trust me, this is _big_. Look."

She crouches and pulls a card off the ground, showing it to him. "Page of Cups. Young, effeminate, artistic. Real creative type." Kurt can’t decide whether to be offended by that "effeminate" bit or flattered by the rest.

Madame Gigi picks up another card off to his right. "The Lovers. Big choice comin' your way. Prob'ly in the cherry-poppin’ department."

Kurt's jaw drops and he's probably beet-red by now, but Madame Gigi just slides sideways, following some imaginary path only she can see. She comes up again with two more cards. "Two of Cups. Ten of Cups. _Damn,_ kid. That's some _serious_ mojo!"

She looks around for a moment, then nudges Kurt's foot. Too stunned to protest, he raises his leg and watches as she plucks the last card out from under his shoe.

Letting out a whoop, the woman waves the card in Kurt's face. "Knight of Cups. Smooth, a charmer, but a dreamer too. Easily distracted. _This..._ " She slides the card into Kurt's jacket pocket. " _This_ is the one yer gonna marry, kiddo, or my name ain't Jea... err, Madame Gigi!"

Apparently content, the faux-gypsy swishes away, and Kurt just stands there with his foot in the air, Mercedes giggling helplessly at his side.

It's all nonsense, of course.

He keeps the card anyway.

\---

The third time it happens, Kurt is _sure_ that someone, somewhere, is playing a particularly vile trick on him.

He gets a Facebook alert from Daily Horoscope, which he used once and can't seem to remove from his profile.

 _Leo: Take a chance on love. Steamy, passionate romance possible with Sagittarius._

Kurt blushes to the tips of his toes and _does. not._ look up Blaine's sign.

\---

By the fourth time, Kurt's convinced the Flying Spaghetti Monster has it in for him _personally_. Because Finn gets a magic 8-ball for his birthday and spends most of the week having some very interesting conversations with it, and on a whim Kurt grabs it one night and shakes without asking a question.

But just before he turns the ball upward, he thinks about Blaine. Just for a split-second.

And the 8-ball says: _Most Definitely._

\---

The last straw turns up when the Warblers go to Benihana's to celebrate Wes getting a full ride to Juilliard. As the meal winds down, the waitress gives each of them a fortune cookie.

And Kurt really should know better by now, but he's too curious to let it go. So he breaks the cookie in half and reads his fortune.

 _Speak the truth of your heart. You won't be sorry._

It wouldn't look good if Kurt started hyperventilating at the table, so he excuses himself, runs to the bathroom and bangs his head against the tiles. Which turns out to be a bad idea, because it loosens the paper towel dispenser and sends the ancient piece of junk crashing to the floor.

Blaine walks in a moment later, looking concerned. As good friends would. "Are you okay?" he asks.

Past humiliations aside, Kurt doesn't consider himself a stupid person. He knows that if he actually tells Blaine what's going on, he'll sound like a lunatic and probably drive away the guy he... his _friend_.

So he'll make up a polite lie, smile and go back to the table.

"I'm fine." Kurt replies. "The universe has apparently decided to become directly involved in my love life, but that's just _fine._ "

Wait, _what?_ Oh _crud._

Blaine frowns. "The universe... what?"

And Kurt finds himself passing the fortune to Blaine, even as he tells himself that this is a very, _very_ bad idea. "I've been getting weird messages like that for weeks and oh God when I say it like that it sounds _crazy_ but there it is."

Blaine reads the fortune, mouthing the words as he does. Then he just smiles. "Kurt... it's just a fortune cookie. Come on."

"See, that's what I'd think too! But the cookie, and Madame Gigi, and the 8-ball!" And Kurt is acutely aware that he's sounding more and more hysterical, and won't _that_ just make the yearbook at Dalton. _KURT HUMMEL: THE UNIVERSE TALKS TO HIM ABOUT LOVE._

"Madame Gigi?" Blaine echoed.

"It's insane! Even if I believed in God, which I don't, and don't get me started on that, I _refuse_ to believe that I've turned into... into some kind of _love magnet!_ "

For a moment, they just stare at each other, wide-eyed and silent. Blaine's the one who starts laughing first. Kurt toys with mustering up a flounce that would leave Rachel Berry in the dust, until he replays his own words in his head.

And then he's right there with Blaine, the two of them leaning against the wall and laughing helplessly.

\---

Blaine's waiting for him outside his room the next morning. And he looks... different. Serious.

"Hey." Kurt says, trying to turn the clock back on his momentary nervous breakdown.

But Blaine shuffles his feet and says: "You've been acting really weird lately." Kurt tries to protest, but Blaine just keeps talking, all in a rush as though he's afraid he'll falter and stop. "It's okay. I get it. Things _are_ weird. But last night... if you really think the universe is sending you signals, or whatever... maybe we should just let it decide."

He pulls a silver dollar out of his pocket and shows it to Kurt. "Tails, we stay friends. Heads... we try for more."

Kurt is speechless. He tries to think of something witty to say, or gently discourage Blaine from letting a _coin_ determine something as important as what they might become to each other. But all he can do is nod.

"Okay." And Kurt realizes Blaine's trembling as he tries to balance the silver dollar on the back of his thumb. He swallows, dips his hand just a bit and catapults the coin into the air.

It catches the sunlight as it rises. And for the first time, Kurt finds himself talking to Whoever/Whatever Might Be Out There, and all he can think is _please please please._

The coin drops to the floor with a soft _plink_ , and spins on its side once, twice, three times.

And then, finally, it lands.

\---

 **Epilogue: Four Years Later**

He's clearing out the last of the cardboard boxes when something trips him.

Kurt Anderson-Hummel stumbles for a moment, but easily regains his balance and scoops up the offending shoebox. It's not his, which isn't much of a surprise: you wouldn't know it to look at him, but Blaine is living proof of entropy. No matter how ordered a system, no matter how often that system's maintained, all Blaine has to do is walk into a room and you can kiss any attempt at organization goodbye.

(Which isn't always a bad thing - that's how Kurt found the handcuffs before Blaine had a chance to use them. And boy was _he_ surprised that night.)

The shoebox is old, its cover almost completely caved in and its corners dented. Kurt's never seen it before; he sets it down on the bed ( _their_ bed, and wow, he's still not over the giddy rush of _that_ concept) and opens it to find...

Photos. Lots of them: senior prom, the group shots of New Directions at Nationals, their first trip to Milan. Kurt keeps most of his own pictures scanned and sorted by date, but leave it to Blaine to preserve that classic feeling of running your fingers over good memories.

There's a rolled-up wad of paper at the bottom of the box. He pulls it out and unfurls it - the writing is faded, but Kurt can just barely make the words out.

They're receipts. And as Kurt reads them, he feels his heartbeat quicken, and a soft smile comes to his lips.

 _Zodiac Attack: personalized horoscope - Leo._

 _Greg's Gag Gulag: Just Say Yes 8-Ball._

 _Benihana's: customized fortune._

 _Madame Gigi's Psychic Pservices: tarot reading._

And when he gets to the last one, Kurt can't help himself: he laughs.

 _The Magical Rabbit: two-headed silver dollar._   



End file.
